Strong Roots
by Faye Dartmouth
Summary: Extraction does not have to be painful. But I do find it so much more enjoyable.


Title: Strong Roots

Disclaimer: I do not own Chaos.

A/N: No real rhyme or reason to this. I just really like hurting Billy. I should warn for torture? Beta thanks to **sockie1000**. I don't think I've posted this already but I have so much fic and no organization that I can't be sure.

Summary: Extraction does not have to be painful. But I do find it so much more enjoyable.

-o-

"Tell me," Righetti said. "Who do you work for?"

Strapped to a chair with zip ties, Billy couldn't help but squirm. He made face. "Funny thing about me," he said. "I don't really have a lot of tried and true allegiances."

Righetti had a rather banal style of torture. He was laid back about the entire thing. The blokes by the door looked tense with their machine guns in hand and muscles bulging, but Righetti seemed to find the entire thing rather mundane.

Nonplussed, Righetti shrugged. "This is not a matter of honor or betrayal for me. It is a mere matter of practicality. I need to know who you work for in order to ascertain the level of this breach. And then I must contain the breach, which means that you will die."

Billy made a face. "I'm not sure you understand this whole torture thing, mate," he said. "Telling me I'm going to die is not much incentive to start taking."

Righetti made a flitting motion with his hand. "Your incentive is not my concern," he said. Then his eyes narrowed. "I will extract something from you, though. You may decide if it is simple intelligence or so much more."

A small shudder ran down Billy's back, but he didn't give into it. Instead, he smiled. "Well, unless you want a detailed history of Scotland or the process by which scotch is made, I'm not sure there's much to take."

Righetti sighed, getting to his feet. "We shall see," he said, then his eyes glinted. "We shall see."

-o-

Billy expected a beating. He thought maybe Righetti favored blades. But instead, the man methodically snapped on a pair of surgical gloves before picking up a rather cumbersome pair of pliers.

Billy scoffed. "Sanitation is a concern of yours?" he quipped. "You might try a sturdier pair of work gloves. I'm afraid those are not going to protect you from the rather large rats I saw in my cell."

Righetti made no reply. Instead, he nodded toward the beefy guards who came toward Billy.

Flinching, Billy prepared for the worst, but the man shouldered their weapons. One of them yanked Billy's head back by the hair, clamping down hard while Billy yelped. The sound was cut off, however, when the other man grabbed Billy's jaw and pried it open, squeezing so hard that Billy couldn't retract it.

For a moment, he panicked. Bound as he was, flailing got him nowhere, but sitting still was almost impossible. The angle of his neck was painful and the tightness on his jaw made him swallow, almost choking convulsively.

Then he saw Righetti.

Standing above him, he smiled. "Extraction does not have to be painful," he said, lifting the pliers aloft. "But I do find it so much more enjoyable."

-o-

Billy was good under pressure. Being a spy, that much was a given. But the sight of Righetti coming at him with pliers was enough to make him fight in earnest, no matter how useless he knew it was.

He strained, trying desperately to bite when the taste of latex was heavy on his tongue. His jaw worked, but it was in vain and when cold metal filled his mouth he almost gagged.

There was nothing to be done for it, though, and before he could work on calming his frantic heartbeat, the metal clinked heavily into his teeth, pushing out his cheek and cutting painfully into his gums.

The acrid taste of blood tickled the back of his throat, but the sensation was short lived with the pliers found purchase and Righetti yanked.

Billy's vision went white, and his mind reeled. He could remember this, but not from his spy days. As a child, he'd neglected his teeth and the dentist had never been particularly fond of him. His father had consented to get his teeth fixed but always made the dentist work without anesthesia. From fillings to crowns, Billy endured it all, cringing at the sound of the drill and gripping the side of the chair with all he had.

It had been because of the money, his mother had explained while feeding him ice cream after the fact. It built character, his father told him gruffly when Billy cried in the passenger seat on the way home.

But Billy knew better. His father was just a bastard, through and through.

So Billy knew a bit about dental discomfort.

This didn't even compare.

He came back to himself, almost choking on the blood. Shakily, he looked up and saw Righetti standing above him still, holding a bloody tooth aloft in the pliers. "You have strong roots," he observed. Then he looked back at Billy, the dark gleam intensifying.

Billy gagged again, and this time his head was released. He flopped forward, heaving for air and spitting blood desperately even more filled the void. Tears burned down his cheeks and his heart was racing.

"Now tell me," Righetti said, placing the tooth on the table in front of Billy. "What shall we extract next?"

-o-

The second tooth wasn't quite as bad as the first, but the third left Billy sobbing uncontrollably.

"Come now," Righetti said, placing the fourth molar by the others. "Surely you would rather give me something less painful."

Blood coated Billy's chin and it was stained on his shirt front. His stomach was nauseous from swallowing so much, and his nose was running from the tears.

Still, he shook his head. "My teeth aren't worth much," he said. "Just ask my da. You can take every last bloody one."

Righetti's face darkened. "I will," he said. "And then I will take so much more."

-o-

Righetti took six teeth and two fingernails before his team arrived. Billy was giddy with exhaustion, and when Rick untied him, he almost laughed.

Michael came up beside him, lifting him bodily to his feet with a frown. "You okay there, Collins?"

Billy just laughed harder, spitting another mouthful of blood.

"You don't think they drugged him, do you?" Casey asked.

"No," Billy interrupted, shaking his head. He rolled his head toward Casey. "All procedures were completed without anesthesia."

Rick's face creased with concern. "What did they take?"

"Teeth and fingernails," Billy told him. "Nothing I couldn't afford to lose."

Michael grunted. "Higgins is not going to be pleased about the dental claim after this," he said.

"Though really, considering Billy's teeth, maybe Righetti did him a favor," Casey pointed out.

Billy laughed. Because he'd survived the dentist in his youth, and his father was a bastard but maybe he was right. Maybe it _did _build character. The thought that his father may have actually helped him this time almost made him want to laugh until he cried.

Which, as it turned out, he was already doing. "You know," he said, staggering a few steps as Michael started to guide him out. "I actually rather like the dentist."

Michael gave him a funny look. "Even after this?"

"Especially after this," Billy said, his head starting to spin a little as they made their way past the fallen goons into the hall.

"And how do you figure that?" Rick asked.

"Novocaine!" Billy crooned excitedly. "I'd even settle for some good old fashioned laughing gas!"

Because a little pain built character - but Billy figured at this point, he had all the character he needed.


End file.
